Holding On
by Lyndsay-Marie
Summary: When Sakura tries to hold onto the only thing of her 'family' that she has left, she realizes something that she'd never imagined would happened. Onesided Kakashi/Sakura.


There had never been a moment in her entire life in which Sakura believed she would be the last one left. Ever since Team Seven had come together, Sakura had been watching after both Naruto and Sasuke. She'd watched them as they'd moved from young boys--both immature in their own ways, yet still older than they should have ever had to be--into young men who had been forced to mature far too quickly.

She had witnessed heart break and sorrow and all different levels of grief as she'd watched them through the years. At the end of it all she'd been there to watch as they'd destroyed each other, leaving her without the family she'd clung to so desperately for so long. It had been the last time that she'd had to stand behind and watch their backs as they moved on without her. There was only one link left over after everything that had happened in Team Seven, just one little piece that was left behind, and she clung to that more tightly and with more desperation than anyone could have imagined. It was the last thing that she had left of that family, the last thing that made her feel as though she truly belonged. The last piece of Naruto and Sasuke and the years they had spent together. The only person who could possibly understand what it was to be left behind by those two.

That was how she'd found herself hidden in the women's restroom at the fanciest bar in all of Konohagakure, dressed in something most unbecoming of a ninja of her status (not to mention a little bit offensive to the feminist in of her) and gathering her wits about her. She'd never really had to work so hard for something in a long time, never really had to fight to prevent losing the last thing that was hers. Not even when she'd begged Sasuke to take her with him. She knew already that there was no one out there that could possibly understand what it was that she was trying to keep, definitely not _him_. Sakura was quite aware that when he looked at her, he saw the twelve year old girl that she had been all of those years ago. The girl she was almost ashamed to have been. The girl she'd long since outgrown much like a snake sheds its unnecessary skin.

It was with the determination that she'd witnessed in her teammates over all of those years that pushed her forward and she drew in a deep breath, glanced once more at the mirror, ran pale fingers through her hair and moved out of the restroom. She was sure she looked nothing like the Sakura Haruno that her teacher would remember. Her hair hung in loose curls around her face and her face was done up with soft blush and a deep pink lipstick, her eyes softened slightly with a winter green shadow. Her cheeks flushed a little darker as she glanced down at the short skirt and tight, low-cut top her best friend had chosen for her.

She wondered idly what Ino would have thought had she known exactly _who_ it was that she was trying to impress. Regardless, Sakura knew that she was too far gone now to truly care about the morality of all of this. Why should it matter how she decided to get his attention? Wasn't it her decision in the long run? Besides... it wasn't as though she was actually going to approach him during his date or try to actually interrupt it. She was just going to make sure that he noticed who she was now--a young woman, and someone that she was sure he needed as badly as she needed him. He'd lost his whole team before, as a teenager, and then again on that night almost a year ago--the same night in which Sakura had lost the glue that held her life together. So didn't it make sense that he'd want to cling to this last piece of that team that they had left?

Didn't it make sense...?

There was only one thing that she knew for sure and that was that she couldn't lose him. After all of this time, she couldn't stand the thought of having to watch the back of one more person. Not after all of the work she'd done to try to finally catch up.

Green eyes moved over the crowd until they finally caught the flash of silver hair against the darkness of the club. She could feel her chest tightening a little and she moved closer, glancing from the corner of her eyes at the pair. He was with a young woman probably barely older than she was, with long dark hair and striking blue eyes. Sakura bit her lip lightly and ordered her drink from the bar, taking a slow sip of it to gauge the taste before smiling at the bartender and moving to sit at a small booth that was only two over from her teacher's.

She was just going to watch. She would watch and make sure that nothing would happen to jeopardize her plans for what the future should hold.

Sakura sat there for about an hour, just watching the dark haired girl smile up at _her_ teacher, batting her eyelashes and flirting easily with him before a man approached her at her booth. She was caught a little off guard but she smiled at him and nodded when he asked if he could sit with her. It would probably make her look less desperate, and Sakura thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd seen Kakashi's eyes glance in her direction for a moment. Maybe this was the way it had to happen. Maybe she'd just looked too desperate. After all, hadn't that been how she'd first pursued Sasuke when she'd been a little girl? It obviously hadn't worked for her and so maybe now was the time to learn from that mistake. Not that she was trying to pursue her teacher in that same way, of course.

The man she'd allowed to sit with her began talking and Sakura rested her chin on her hand, pretending to listen while she continued to watch Kakashi with his date. It was only about a half hour before he pushed back his chair and reached for the girl's overcoat, leading her to the door. Forgetting herself a moment Sakura jumped up from her seat before colouring and glancing away.

"I'm sorry," she said softly to the man, offering him an embarrassed smile, "I'm not feeling very well, so I'd better just go home." Before he could reply she hurried from the bar, following about a block behind Kakashi as he walked alongside the girl, whose small pale hand rested on the crook of his elbow.

Jealousy that Sakura hadn't felt since she had been thirteen years old fluttered inside of her, and it stopped her in her tracks. When had something like this become so important to her? She'd always known that she was afraid to be alone. She'd always longed to belong more cohesively with her team, which was irreplaceable and nearly unbeatable. What she'd never expected, though, was that she'd have become so obsessed with her teacher that the jealousy would make it so hard to breathe, make it so that she felt sick to her stomach just by watching the dark-haired girl leaning over and pressing her lips softly to Kakashi's.

She'd never thought that she'd have felt _this_ emotion for her teacher--this kind of bubbling jealousy and frustration and the urge to just-- to just rip that girl away from him. Her intention had been to make sure that he hadn't found someone that he wanted to keep, someone that would stop him from visiting the memorial stone with her, from protecting her and going out on missions and dinners and- and... everything that she'd come to be used to. She'd come to rely on all that, and she was afraid that this would stop him from being her-- from being her what? There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her that this was something different than what she'd thought about. She'd come tonight in hopes of showing him that he didn't need anyone else, but it had eluded her notice that her own feelings for her teacher had evolved to such a level.

Drawing in a shaking breath and pressing her fingers to her heated cheek, Sakura took a few steps back and hid herself against the cold brick wall of a small alleyway. What was she doing, after all? Had she really come because _she _wanted to be that person that leaned against him, who got the chance to feel those fingers (which were surely calloused after so much training, right?) brushing hair behind one ear? She let herself slide down the wall until she was leaning against it, her bottom pressed against the cold dirt road. It was snowing now, but it didn't seem to matter as she pulled her knees up against her chest and rested her face against them, squeezing her eyes shut.

What would everyone think of these feelings that had developed like this, that had drawn her here, her wish for the feel of an older man's lips, or of his fingers or of-- of anything like that? How had she not noticed these feelings? She'd once fancied herself in love with Sasuke, hadn't she? How was it that this feeling was so much the same and yet so different? It was so strong that even now, leaning against herself like this, all she wanted to do was to run up to him and yell or hit him or force those mismatched eyes to look at _her_, only her. To pay attention to her. To hold her and kiss her and love her. Only her.

She could feel the warm moisture of tears against her knees, sliding down to her thighs as she let out the softest of sobs. What would _he_ think of her? What was she even thinking? She thought about what he was probably doing with that girl right now, and felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She simply shook her head slowly, wiping her eyes against her knees despite the fact that she was probably smearing makeup all over her legs; she simply could not bring herself to care about something so insignificant in this moment of self discovery, when it felt like her heart was pounding so hard against her chest that it was going to break right through her.

_Why is it never me...?_

She was in that position for almost two hours before she began to shiver, the snow causing her clothes to dampen and stick uncomfortably to her skin. Trembling slightly, she moved to stand, brushing the dirt from her as best as she could before she stepped out of the alleyway. Surely he would be home right now, wouldn't he? Even if she couldn't tell him-- even if she couldn't do anything, he ought to accept her into his house. After everything he owed her that, didn't he? As her teacher...

_Kakashi-sensei..._

Forcing herself forward, one foot in front of the other, Sakura walked the familiar path to the older man's house. Her hair was disheveled, her makeup was ruined and her outfit was certainly sopping wet now, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She made her way up the stairs of the apartment building, fingers sliding slowly against the rail as she walked.

As she stood in front of his door, she wondered if he would even be home. He didn't really seem the type to spend the night at a woman's house, but she didn't _really_ know him as well as she'd like (was it possible to love someone like this without truly knowing him all the way through?), especially not in matters like this. Gathering her strength and praying not to be walk in on anything that would make this evening any worse, Sakura knocked softly on the door.

The night was silent for a few moments and she shivered in the cool wind, wishing she'd brought her own jacket. Another moment passed and she closed her eyes, that sick feeling settling at the bottom of her stomach again. Yet another moment sped by before she turned her back on the door, drawing in a deep breath to calm her stomach and she lifted one foot, ready to step forward when she heard the click of the lock on the door and a slight squeak as the door opened.

Sakura turned around faster than she could have ever remembered doing, staring up into the masked face of her teacher, her lips parted, eyes still swimming with tears as he glanced down at her. There wasn't a single sound that passed between them as they stood there just watching each other for a moment.

"Sakura..." came the soft, deep voice that Sakura had been wishing to hear all evening.

"K-Kakashi--" she managed to whisper through slightly chattering teeth, one hand lifting to reach out for him.

Strong arms came around her, pulling her into the apartment, and Sakura was left speechless, her eyes wide as the tears she'd managed to hold in finally fell down her cheeks. This was the warmth of belonging that she'd longed for. She reached up, hands fisting in her teacher's deep blue shirt as she pressed her face against his chest and sobbed softly, shoulders shaking as she clung tighter to him than she had to anything for as long as she could remember. He just held her tight to him, waiting as she cried against him, his fingers threading through her hair a bit awkwardly to soothe her.

They stood like that for several moments, with Sakura just enjoying the feel of the other's warmth as her sobs dissolved to soft whimpers and sniffling. A part of her, the part that had trained for years to be considered the equal of her teammates, screamed in frustration at such a show of weakness in front of her teacher; she didn't have it in her to summon that stubbornness, though, and instead just let herself linger a moment like this.

"It's cold out," she whispered softly, her voice a little hoarse now. "Can I-- can I stay here tonight?"

There was a pause as Kakashi slowly and carefully released her from his hold, and he nodded slowly, his eyes softening slightly towards Sakura. "Yes, you can have the couch if you want," he said slowly, his voice a little husky as he moved to run his fingers first through his hair before they adjusted his mask.

"Thanks," she replied with a slight nod, offering him a shaky smile as she lifted her hands to her own hair, trying to smooth it down a little. It was rather a lost cause, really.

There was an awkward silence between them where they simply stood there, staring away from each other, and Sakura thought that most probably her once-teacher was trying to think of something to say, or maybe he was trying to figure out if it was his job to ask her about what she'd been doing outside his house. It was almost a horrifying thought to think that maybe he already knew what she'd been doing outside of his house and she felt her cheeks warm a little as she shook her head absently.

That couldn't be it. She had barely even known anything like that, so there's no way that he would have.

Trying to distract herself, she glanced around the room, an almost familiar kind of amusement washing over her at the sight of an errant Icha Icha book laying on the coffee table. It felt good to be yanked back to earth by that little piece of normality. Something that was so silly yet remained the most constant in their lives out of everything else.

They stood there another moment before Kakashi moved, stepping further back and gesturing towards the kitchen. "There's food," he said simply, "and things you can drink, too."

His apartment was clean and she nodded, stepping towards the couch and sitting down heavily, the plush material allowing her whole weight to sink into it. "Thank-you," she mumbled. "I really-- thank you."

Her teacher nodded and he glanced towards his bedroom. "I'm going to go to sleep. If anything happens-- I'll hear, I'm sure."

She almost smiled at that little reminder of who and what he was. Sometimes she'd fall into the thought process of seeing him as little more than her lazy, late, perverse teacher and forget that he was one of the foremost experienced and talented shinobi in the village. Instead she nodded and wiped at some of the moisture that was still lingering on her face. She imagined that she probably looked the same wreck that she felt like and she swallowed hard.

"The shower...?" she began, relieved when he just nodded.

"Of course, everything should be in there."

She nodded again and waited until he slid quietly into his bedroom, leaving the door open just a little before she moved into the bathroom, glancing around. It was moderately clean in here, too. Only a couple of shirts hung up around the room as if to dry and she smiled a little at them as she closed the door. The whole room smelled of her teacher and her chest tightened a little before she slowly unlaced her top and let it fall to the ground. It was almost silly, letting herself be so completely surrounded by something that she couldn't have. Masochistic, really.

Unzipping her skirt, Sakura stepped out of it and quickly stripped herself of her undergarments before she moved towards the shower, turning the water to as hot as she could stand. Enjoying the warm humidity of the steam, Sakura waited another moment before carefully sliding into the shower, the hot water causing a soft gasp to leave her lips. It was nice, almost a perfect feeling to her almost numb skin.

She decided to linger a little longer than she usually did in the shower, making sure that the dirt that had clung to her was gone and that the puffiness of her face had subsided a little. It was good to feel a little more adequate than she had about an hour ago. Turning off the shower, she stepped out of it and dried herself quickly before the cool air could assault her body.

Glancing down at her clothes, she wrinkled her nose. As a ninja putting on dirty clothes wasn't a particular bother. In fact it was often a necessity. However, as a woman it was a thought that did not appeal to her in the least and she piled them into a small heap in the sink, hoping that she would get the chance to wash them tomorrow.

Just for one night, being the woman instead of the ninja would be all right, wouldn't it?

Glancing around the bathroom, Sakura reached for one of her teacher's shirts, pulling it from where it hung haphazardly over a rail, and pulled it on so that it fell over her, resting just above her knees.. It was probably not the best idea, but she was sure she could apologize for it in the morning and if she told herself that it was out necessity, instead of her want to feel closer to Kakashi... Maybe then she'd eventually begin to believe that as well.

Drying her hair off just enough so that it was no longer dripping, Sakura slid out of the steam-filled bathroom and back into the dark living room. She thought she could hear the slight snoring of her teacher in the next room and couldn't help but to smile a little. It was something that was quite un-ninja like of him, but something that she found all the more humanizing for him. She liked it, even.

Moving towards the couch, the slightest sound caught her attention and Sakura turned in the direction of Kakashi room. She thought she'd heard something. A whimper? A groan? Something that seemed so quiet and still managed to echo in her ears. It was something that was almost frightening to her.

Moving with the skill she'd spent years building, Sakura slid into Kakashi's room, hoping not to wake him. She stood in the darkness, swallowing hard. Everything seemed perfectly fine. He looked fine sleeping there (though she did smile when she noted that he'd slept with his mask on. Probably for her sake) and she was sure that she'd hallucinated the whole thing.

Turning her back on the room and shaking her head in embarrassment (why was her mind playing tricks on her? Just to get her into his bedroom?) Sakura lifted a foot to step away when she heard the noise again. This time she turned to look, her eyes moving over his body and a frown creasing her brow. His face was contorted now. An expression of pain that she recognized as something she'd seen on her own face often.

It was almost as though something were moving her body for her then as Sakura stepped forward, silently she was sure, until her knees were almost pressed against Kakashi's bed. It was almost thrilling to be watching this man, this legendary shinobi, sleeping like this. In this state that was surely the most vulnerable that most people ever saw him. Sakura also wondered what he was dreaming about. Wondered if it resembled the recurring dream she had of Sasuke and Naruto and when they'd left their lives. Or if it was about his team before them, the young boy and girl he'd been paired with. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Regardless, she was curious.

Slowly and carefully, she sunk down to her knees, now face to face with this man that had been her teacher for so many years. It was hard to believe like this that he was still that man. He looked older, more worn. Sad, even. Closing her eyes, she reached out, her fingers sliding lightly against his cheek. He didn't move.

She wondered if she should be relieved or disappointed at that. Regardless, she felt a slight flutter of something in her abdomen when his face seemed to relax a little as he apparently dreamed on.

Another moment, Sakura knelt there just watching him, inhaling the scent of him before she gave in and leaned in, pressing her lips to his own mask-covered ones.

It was like all of her senses were surrounded by him. Like somehow, through the mask and though his lips were barely parted, she could still taste him. She thought that she'd felt, for the barest hint of a second, his lips press back against hers, though she couldn't be sure if it was just her imagination. Her heart was beating quickly in a mixture of the adrenaline pumping through her and something else and slowly, so very slowly, she pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed. He stirred a little and she closed her eyes for a second before raising herself back to her feet and sliding silently out of his room, even as she heard him wake slowly.

She was sure it had been ages since she'd moved as fast as she did in that moment, slipping onto the couch and pulling a throw over herself. She hoped the darkness of the room would help to cover the redness of her cheeks and the fact that she was dressed in one of his shirts as she heard him step out of his room.

"Sakura?" he said slowly, his voice deep and husky from sleep.

Trying to mimic the same tone, she lifted herself into a sitting position and glanced at him over the top of the couch, her eyes shining brightly and her breath quick and unsteady. He watched her and there was silence between them and she was sure that he'd noticed. That he'd felt it or remembered it somehow. Sure she'd been caught and she could see it in those mismatched eyes and sitting there, just staring at him, she tried to think of an excuse for when he confronted her and her breath quickened. She didn't know what to say or how to explain herself.

Lips parted and she readied herself to just admit what she'd done when her teacher ran his fingers through his hair and turned his back to her.

"It's nothing. I thought I heard something," he said slowly, opening his door again and stepping inside. "Goodnight."

She sat there for a moment, relief and confusing washing over her. He'd known, he'd... he'd definitely known. She'd been able to tell by that look on his face, by the way those eyes had been trained on her and she was sure they'd seen right through her.

Confused, she moved to lay down, pulling the throw tightly around her and closing her eyes. She was sure that she'd never, ever know why he'd done what he had. Whether it had been because it was something that he felt was better left ignored or if he was trying to work through whatever thoughts he had on it himself... she'd never know. All she did know was the he'd felt her lips on his and he hadn't kicked her out of the apartment. That was something.

Smiling softly to herself, Sakura wrapped her arms around herself and let sleep overwhelm her as she sunk into the scent and feel of his shirt clinging tightly to her.

It was all going to be worth it.


End file.
